


Piece of PI

by 5samn



Category: Hat Films - Fandom, Hatfilms, The Yogscast
Genre: Alot of swearing, Blow Jobs, M/M, Smoking, wanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 05:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6411529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5samn/pseuds/5samn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex Smith private investigator (sorry detective), had just landed his biggest job yet. To find and bring thief 'Ross Hornby' back to the headquarters of famed crime boss Sips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Apple

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter of this is small and i'm not sure how many it will have, if people like it i'll do more! :) The chapters are gunna be named after pie flavours because i'm lame. Many many thanks to VexedBeverage who the last few days had cheered me up and given me the motivation to do things (she's the best for real). 
> 
> Please don't read any of my stuff on stream or on a video.

If there was one guy in the entire city you didn't wanna piss off it would probably be this dude. Yet some unfortunate fucker obviously did as the mob boss Sips had come to his office, Smith’s Detective Agency, the best private investigator (who prefers the term detective) in the state. 

“Right, first off we talk pay.” Smith said, testing his pen on the notepad on the desk.

“Can we just fuckin’ get on with it?” Sips spat, reaching into his breast pocket for a cigarette.

“When you agree to give me a three thousand dollar a month salary till I finish the job.” Smith replied, leaning forward and taking the cigarette from Sips’ hand.

“Fine. Hell if you catch the guy i’ll chuck five thousand on top.” He didn’t seem remotely bothered by Smith stealing, he just grabbed and lit another one.

“Fuckin’ A. Okay right. Perp name, age and build?” He asked.

“Ross Hornby, 28, tall, medium build, slimy bastard. I got a picture.” Sips replied slapping the photo on the desk.

“Pretty boy eh? Last known address?” Smith chuckled, the guy had sweet eyes and a captivating smile.

“Yeah I should know by now pretty boys never prosper. Address would be my own mother fuckin’ complex.” Sips sighed, turning his head to scowl at one of the security guards that stood behind him. The guy was obviously angry his fists clenching as he stared at the floor.

“Wow…shit.” Smith laughed. “One brave dude. What’d he do?” He looked sheepishly up at Sips, nervous he pushed too far with the laugh.

“Oh you know… Just stole a cool half million dollars.” Sips fingered the butterfly knife in his pocket.

“Why me then? Go to the police.” Smith had never had a job of this size. Normally it was cheating spouses or rent arrears, not a whole hunk of money.

“Are you fuckin’ dumb? Do you know who I am? That money is VERY clean. Freshly laundered.” Sips took a huge drag from the cigarette, so much so that the ash fell onto his lap.

“Right. Anything else I should know?” Smith asked.

“He’s got an old camper dunno the plate, has probably left state, no active bank accounts, no known family. We’ve been trying to find him all week no luck.” Sips had a look on his face that resembled someone having chewed glass.

“This takes as long as it takes then man, he won’t be easy to get.” Smith really didn’t feel like letting him down so thought it best to give it to him straight.

“Just get the prick. I’ll pay expenses on top, oh and needless to say I want him alive.” Sips began to stand from his chair, dropping his cigarette on the floor and stamping it out with his foot.

“Do you want him un-touched or can I injure if it’s necessary?” Smith asked, knowing some force might be needed to get him back.

“I don’t give a shit alright, fuck him if you must just get him the fuck back here with my money.” Sips had clearly had enough of questions motioning for his men to give him his coat. “I want you on this tomorrow, no other cases.” He pointed a finger towards Smith’s chest.

“I can’t blow off other clients, I’ll be on it tomorrow I need to come see where he was living but after that give me three days to clear up my other stuff.” Smith spoke with his most stern voice, trying to convey that this was the only option.

“Whatever.” Sips sounded like he couldn't be bothered to argue. “I’ll see you tomorrow nine sharp Al.”

“It’s Smith, and I shake on my contracts.” He held out a hand.

“Well i’m going to call you Al, nine on the dot.” Sips shook his hand so fiercely that he thought he might get lifted off the floor.

Smith laid in bed that night planning out the job, the guys picture clipped to the front of his file. At least he was a looker, the guys he normally tailed were fat middle aged men cheating on their partners or greasy biker guys. After doing all he could he settled a bit comfier in bed but all attempts at sleeping were futile. Flipping on his front had just let his cock rub against the mattress through his boxers. Fuck. He couldn't jerk off to a picture of a perp. He leaned over to grab his phone from the dresser, unlocking it and trying to get the porn site to load. His internet was so shit the video wouldn't play but it stopped on a shot of a guy getting fucked, it would have to do. Rolling onto his back he held the phone awkwardly and reached down for his dick, he moved his hand lazily not really aroused by the image or comfortable on the bed.

“Fuck it.” Smith said to no-one. He threw his phone to the floor, moved so he was on all fours and put the picture of ‘Ross Hornby’ on the pillow. Thrusting into his hand and staring at the picture made it easy for him to imagine the sweet eyes underneath him, a writhing, pleading mess. In little more than a minute he was panting, desperate to grab some hair or sink his teeth into some soft skin. When he came not long after he shook with muscle relief, his legs threatening to cramp. If this dude was as attractive in real life as he was in the picture he just might let him get away.

He woke the next morning to his alarm, reminded of his desperation by the dried cum patch on his sheet. He showered, dressed and left the apartment a little late for the train. Why was he looking forward to rooting around this guy’s flat? Maybe he’d find a dildo. He always found dildos.


	2. Blackberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smith searches Ross' flat, some things he finds might be useful others... not so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo. Thanks for the dudes that encouraged me to write some more, I think i've got this thing planned out now. I feel like not a lot is like happening but it's setting up the story right now :)  
> As always my Tumblr is SamTheFirst and i'm friendly. Promise.
> 
> Please don't read any of my stuff on stream or on a video.

He arrived at the building late and flustered, the security guards checked his bags for what seemed like half an hour before he was allowed to actually go in. He was escorted to the fourteenth floor where Sips stood waiting at a door.

“Next time you don’t do something for me on time you're in for some trouble.” He looked visibly pissed off, red faced and spitting daggers.

“I got caught up man, it won’t happen again. This his place?” He asked, trying to diffuse the tension. 

“You’re right it won’t. Yeah, David get us in.” The ham fisted security guard stood to his left approached the door and for a moment Smith was sure he was going to break in, before he pulled a bunch of keys out of his breast pocket, searching for the right one. 

“Fancy place.” Smith commented as they walked through the threshold. The walls were decorated with intricate pieces of art that made the whole place come to life. The only weird thing was the severe lack of natural light. “But why no windows?” He asked.

“Our good friend Mr Hornby requested they be completely covered. Hated the city, wanted to block the view.” Smith couldn’t understand how anyone could hate the view that must be behind those blocked up windows, you must be able to see around for miles.

“If you don’t mind i’ll be an hour or so, just gunna look for anything that might help find him.” Smith said poking his head around the divider for the kitchen.

“When you're done call me, I want to see what you can fucking find that we can’t.” He didn’t really understand why Sips was so angry, he was just doing his job. 

“Yeah alright then.” Was all Smith answered, now more inspired to work his magic than normal as Sips and his entourage left the room. _You can’t live without leaving a mark_ , this motto, his Dad`s motto carried with him since he was a teenager was always true. _We aren’t good at hiding Alex, even when, especially when we want to be hidden._ He started looking in the obvious places surprised at how much stuff there was left behind most people took everything when they ran, not able to be without home comforts. He looked in drawers and under surfaces, the only helpful stuff being some receipts paid in cash which he kept incase things got desperate and he needed to retrace the guys steps. He looked in the main rooms first, saving the best for last knowing he was most likely to find stuff in the bedroom, he always did it was just a more personal space. All he found from looking in the kitchen, lounge and bathroom were a few knick knacks, a piece of paper with a phone number tucked deep in the sofa, a pair of short shorts (which he couldn’t help but imagine the guy in the picture wearing), and a newspaper which didn't seem to be of any relevance but he took to scan through later. He grabbed the phone on the side, deciding to give the mystery number a go before carrying on the search.

“Hi Ross, I haven’t spoken to you in a while. Do you want the usual?” A rough voice, one that sounded very put on answered.

“Hi, this isn’t Ross but who is this exactly?” Smith said, not wanting to give too much away in case he scared them off.

“This is Andy from Men-for-Men, I’m sorry this number is connected to my line. How can I help you?” His voice went a few pitches higher and he sounded quite apprehensive.

“Hi Andy, this is a sex line? And connected what does that mean?” Smith tried not to laugh, this guy kept a sex line number around suggesting he was a regular.

“Yeah, Ross calls every week or so and he asks for me so we set up a connection straight to my line. Who are you?” Smith thought hilariously that the longer he was on this line the larger Sips’ phone bill would be.

“I’m a friend of Ross’ and he’s gone missing. I found your number in his flat, would you happen to know anything that might help me find him?” Smith lied, well he was sort of telling the truth.

“Uhh… I don’t think so. The guys we get aren’t all that talkative. He did always thank me for helping him escape. I never really got what he meant but he was always really nice to me, i'm sorry he’s missing.” This Andy guy sounded sincere enough, why would Ross tell a phone sex worker his secret plans anyway?

“Well thank-you anyway, we’ll find him i’m sure.” Smith smiled at this, damn right he’d find him.

“That’s okay, makes a change to my usual routine. I hope you do find him, he was my nicest caller. Alright man cheers.” The phone went dead. Okay so now all we know is this guy is a secretive, thief, escapist pervert. He wrote some bits in his leather bound notebook, he'd got the impression that Ross was someone who liked the countryside, the camper, the windows, the ‘escape’ comment. So he wasn't likely to be in the city anymore, he made a note to check a map for the closest national park.

Now time for his favourite part, the bedroom. This room was different to the rest, the others being pretty plain except for the delicate metal art hanging on the walls but this one was painted (sloppily) a mix of deep purples, blues, pinks and blacks. It created a sort of abstract galaxy effect which would’ve probably looked okay if there wasn’t pictures of forests and lakes stuck all over the walls, it was pretty but more chaotic than a bedroom should be. This guy was obviously a big old romantic outdoorsy type, the type Smith usually despised. There is nothing fun about sitting outside getting wet and stepping in shit when you could be sipping a whiskey in cheap bar and getting laid. Something did stick out though, those pictures weren’t just print outs they looked like he’d taken them and they were good, a photography enthusiast probably. As he peeled back picture by picture he began to lose hope of gaining anything from them, he was down to the last five, and this one seemed to have a man in it. The man looked older from his stature but it wasn’t all that easy to tell, it couldn’t be Ross he was the wrong build and stood with his back facing the camera silhouetted by the sunlight reflecting off of the water in front of him. He turned the picture around to look at the back and found a handwritten scribble _‘Monongahela 2009, Two Days’_ , it didn’t make much sense but a little research might pay off. He searched for another ten minutes before he found anything, a long thick jewellery box made for a watch was hidden well in the space between the drawer and bottom of the cupboard. Convinced this would be an excellent lead if there was any gift note or watch with inscription he opened it excitedly. 

“Oh shit, oh my god fuck.” Smith exclaimed loudly in the silence. A dick jumped out of the box. A dick. 

“Sir is everything…” The security guard stopped in the doorway and began laughing raucously at the sight of the detective looking disgusted and chasing a dildo around the floor.

“I always find **A FUCKING DILDO.** ” Smith gave up trying to grab it and kicked the box. A card slipped out from under the bit that it rested on. He grabbed it quickly, the inside read: _‘Ross, so you won’t always distract me when i’m working.’_ And in the corner an addition _‘Look closer, recognise it?’_.

“Ugh that just makes it worse that I touched it.” Smith shook his hands as if he could shake away the dirtiness.

“What could be worse than touching something that’s been up a man’s ass?” The security guy laughed but also looked disgusted. 

“Touching a homemade dildo, something that is a mould of a dick.” Smith reached into his pocket pulling out and wearing his leather gloves. He picked it up gently, placing it back into the box but pocketing the small card.

“Gross, kinky little shit.” The guy said as he shook his head and walked out, Smith hearing the front door close seconds later.

So Mr. Handsome wasn’t a loner that just used sex lines, he had a boyfriend. The situation was unfurling like a flower in front of his eyes. Ross and the boyfriend travel around a lot, probably don’t have a lot of money, need to fund lifestyle, Ross finds a job in the city living in the apartment of a known gang boss, smarts him out of money and runs off with boyfriend back to their ‘romantic’ lifestyle. He would have him back here by the end of the week. Tops.


	3. Cherry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smith finds someone who might just lead him straight to Ross, but the whole job is looking to be more complicated than he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse me taking such a long ass time to update, I went on holiday then I wasn't feeling the writing for a bit. However I am about to post two chapters to make up for it, hopefully the story is emerging and growing a bit more now. As always comments and stuff welcome and my Tumblr is Samthefirst!
> 
> Thanks friends! x

Smith phoned Sips after he’d finished and he rather irritatedly told him to take the elevator back to the lobby. When the metal doors opened he noticed Sips shout-whispering at a man in the corner, he was obviously trying to talk quietly but was too angry to really keep it down. The only snippet of the conversation he managed to catch was “...scientist. He’s going to run I can feel it. Don’t fucking let him.” Sips seemed slightly aware of some presence watching him as he flipped his head around to where Smith stood.

“Whatcha got pretty boy?” Sips glared at him as he walked across the room, flicking his hand back as to get rid of the other man.

“Some small leads, I won’t know until I get home and research them.” He shrugged, not wanting to get Sips too worked up when none of the leads were that likely to come to fruition.

“What are we talking here? A week? A month?” He looked frustrated and tired.

“Month tops, but I’ll keep you up to date when I know more.” Smith reached into his breast pocket for a cigarette, ready to leave and jump into the case.

“Don’t call me unless it’s solid… And Al?” Sips said as he went to turn away, Smith’s head moved up to look at him expectantly. “Remember who you need information on. Don’t go digging.”

“I’mma fucking professional. You’ll get your guy.” Smith winked, walking out of the lobby and through the glass front doors. He picked up lunch and a coffee on the walk home, all sorts of theories running through his mind as to Ross’ story, he wouldn’t admit that his ripped black skinny jeans felt a little tighter on the crotch region as he thought about the guy using a sex line.

[Google search: Monongahela.

Monongahela River - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia  
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monongahela_River  
The Monongahela River often referred to locally as the Mon /ˈmɒn/ — is a 130- mile-long (210 km) river on the Allegheny Plateau in north-central West Virginia …

Monongahela, Pennsylvania - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia  
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monongahela,_Pennsylvania  
Monongahela, colloquially "Mon City", is a City in Washington County, Pennsylvania, United States (ZIP code 15063) and is part of the Pittsburgh, PA …]

These were the top suggestions either a river running through a national park in West Virginia or a City in Pittsburgh. It had to be the West Virginia park. It’s close, nature-y and probably worth a shot. What would he find there though? Ross wasn’t all that likely to return. Okay not the hottest lead but maybe worth it. Smith rummaged through his bag finding the newspaper he’d picked up in the flat, he fingered the pages carefully looking for any dog eared page or penned in addition. A few of the pages were dog eared, maybe not purposefully as he didn’t seem to be able to gather anything from them, adverts, local politics nothing important. He reached the back of the paper feeling like a deflated lilo before he noticed something in the vehicles for sale column, a camper van. It wasn’t circled, the page wasn’t folded but there were coffee mug stains on this page that suggested it was open for some time. It was worth the phone call. He typed the number into his phone, expecting anything but what he heard when it rang through. 

“I can’t deal with you people anymore, I don’t know anything.” The voice was strained and definitely belonged to a more elderly woman.

“Oh hey hey…” Smith jumped in quickly “I don’t know who you think this is but i’m not them.” 

The person on the other side let out a rather large sigh. “I’m sorry I have had relentless calls from some company recently, how can I help you?” 

“Well I need to ask you about a man that bought a camper from you recently?” He tried to sound compassionate but it sort of came out a little nervous.

“So you are with them.” She sounded angry.

“I’m not with anyone, I am trying to locate a missing person. I believe he purchased an item from you, I found you in the paper.” Smith reasoned that getting to the point instead of turning on the charm would make this less frustrating for her.

“Maybe you aren’t with them but you have the same goal. I don’t know anything, please leave me alone. Do I have your word that you will not call again?” It was a wit’s end sort of plea, more of a beg than a request.

“I won’t call again but please, I need to find Ross. We are all worried.” This was a tactic he’d used before, sound like you are a friend or a family member and people are much more willing to let some things slip.

“You know him? What does he look like, they knew his name too.” Smith was familiar with suspicious people, they always asked questions, even if they didn't really know the answers so he over compensated.

“He’s got dark hair, almost black but with some grey bits. His eyes are light blue and huge, he has soft and long eyelashes. He’s got a little beard and is almost always wearing a hoody and jeans. He’s sweet and calm natured.” He smiled as he described him, remembering the picture that he was so fond of, especially at night when he was alone in his bed. He had a weird thing with Ross, he wanted to catch him get the reward and get on with it like any other job, but he also wanted to hear him laugh, see his post sex smile and comfort him. The warm feeling ran down his body and left when she spoke again.

“So when did you two meet and what happened?” The woman instantly warmed, her voice had an upwards inflection from a smile.


	4. Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smith gets the information he needs from sweet old Penny and hits up an old friend to follow the trail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this and the last chapter in the same six hour run in the middle of the night so if there are my Dyslexia mistakes that my autocorrect didn't catch then I apologise!! 
> 
> Thank-you! x

“Oh.. um sorry what?” Smith didn’t really process what she’d said.

“He told me about his ex boyfriend, you’re James aren’t you? The way you talk about him, I figured he was running away from it all.” She sighed.

“Yeah i’m James, can I ask your name?” Huh so Ross wasn’t with his boyfriend, there goes the ‘steal the money and run away with Mr Handsome’ theory. 

“Oh yes of course sweetie, I’m Penny. What do you need to know?” All of the worry and bitterness had left her, she just sounded intrigued.

“Thank- you for being so kind to me Mam. We had a bad break but i’m ready to say sorry, y’know? I just want to find him and keep him safe.” He added a slight southern drawl to his nondescript accent, just gentle enough for her not to be made aware of it but it always made people feel more comfortable and the topic less harsh.

“Well he rang me from the papers, the daft boy offered me twice what I asked for and I told him I couldn’t take it but that he was welcome to come view it.” Smith nodded before realising that he was on the phone and instead made some affirming noises. “So he did, an hour or two later he was at my door step, proper gentleman he is, introduced himself and asked if I would mind showing him the van. Well I can’t let someone in without offering them some of my cakes and a coffee so I did and we got to chatting. That’s when he told me he’d just quit his job and had everything in his little backpack, he explained that he didn’t much like the city and wanted to buy my van to get back in the country. I’ve lived a long time and know the look of heartbreak so I asked him if he minded staying for a bit longer and telling me about everything.” Smith made more ‘uh-huh’ type noises, encouraging her to carry on. “Well he’s so sweet I don’t think he could say no, he told me all about you, how you were some big shot science guy who ran away with him before things went sour. He said he had no family left and joked about becoming a caveman, Oh! He showed me some pictures he’d taken, real great photographer and theres lots of mysterious ones of you. Never looking at the camera!” 

“He is great, best at nature shots, he knows the angles and lightening to make everything fit.” Smith hoped what he was saying would make some sort of sense to her, he had a skill he fondly referred to as the ‘Advanced Bullshit’ which meant he would pick words that sounded like they might work but were vague enough to not be too detailed. “Did he say where he was planning on going next?” Smith tried to sound sad and desperate. 

“Not really darlin’, next thing he does is shove a bunch of money into my hands and tell me that he wanted me to take it for the van. He insisted he didn't need it and that I must take it, so I relented. Then we went out back and I showed him it, he seemed pleased said it was roomy enough but small enough to not take up too much room in the trailer parks. I told him it didn’t have any leaks but that it was a little out-dated and he laughed. I didn't really get the joke but he ensured me it was a personal thing between you two.” She paused as if to get an answer and Smith panicked and just laughed, hoping it sounded genuine enough. “Then he said he had to go and asked if he could drive it out right there and then, I told him to keep my number and get in touch if he got too lonely. He hasn’t called or spoke to me since.” She sounded worried like she knew something else.

“I can’t contact or find him anywhere. Just wondering, why did you almost put the phone down on me when I rang?” Smith asked trying not to sound too threatening.

“Well thats just it, i’m worried. I’ve been getting phone calls about Ross for weeks now, I don’t know who they are but they have suggested that if I don’t talk then I will get a visit from them. What trouble did he get himself in?” She questioned.

“I’m not sure, we’ve been out of contact for a few months. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, you keep my number and call if you need me. I just need to know what was the plate on the Camper?” He scrabbled around trying to find his notepad.

“It was NM-6743, please be careful James. Something is wrong please keep in touch. I’ll be fine.” She didn't sound very convinced of her own statement.

“Yes Mam and thank-you so much, you’ve been such a great help. Thank-you, again don’t be afraid to call if you need me. Alright goodbye Penny.” Smith had something to go on now and he just needed to get off the phone.

“No problem, I hope you find him honey. Goodbye dear.” She hung up and Smith threw his phone to his bed.

“Yes, fucking yes.” He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket to celebrate, lighting the end and leaning in the windowsill looking out to the city. He could follow the trail of that licence plate and he knew just who to go to, moving back over to the bed he picked up his phone and sent a hasty text.

To: COPBOI - Hey buddy, you on duty? Can ya run over to my place, not for bangin' just need a work favour :P

He finished his cigarette and put it out in a plant pot by his desk, just as his phone vibrated in his pocket.

From: COPBOI - Just got off actually. Had a wank not finished work ;) So I don’t need the bangin’ but ye I can probably do you one little favour, i’ll be over in 20. You want a coffee on the way? x

He laughed at Chris’ stupid joke and typed a reply.

To: COPBOI - Maybe to bang too now I have that image, yeah get me an iced coffee. Thx babe x

If he was honest thinking about Trott just made him think about having sex with Ross. It didn’t really make him feel guilty, him and Trott have been shagging for years it never got at all like a relationship. They agreed early on it was more of a sex thing and it has been ever since. He wondered around the flat, tidying and wondering how to best pitch his request to Trott. He didn’t think he’d be up for chasing up a licence plate and sharing that information with ‘a normal citizen’. Maybe he’d be a bit more suggestible after a blow job? Was it abusing his post orgasm happiness? Probably.


	5. Elderberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smith thought getting Trott to help him would be difficult, he was wrong AND do we finally see something from Mr Mystery?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO FOR REAL. I've been so friggin busy with work and real life things. So I am very sorry that this isn't a lot and that it took me so long. I still love writing but it doesn't make money unfortunately! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3 (I'm sorry!)

Smith sat patiently waiting for Trott, the thought of some sort of sex making him a little restless with his legs. Trott had been busy at the station for the last few weeks, visiting him a lot less than he would’ve liked. Ironically Sips and his cronies were not the ones causing the trouble for once, rumours were that there was an assassin running amok in the city. Trott had let slip that the murders were unconnected apart from the strange fact that they all visited the same cafe, their bank accounts all showing weekly lunch purchases at the Energy-Guys coffee shop. Just as Smith’s detective brain was contemplating the case, he heard the door knob make the familiar squeaking noise which meant someone was turning it. Rushing to the door he smiled as he walked straight into Trott’s path.

“Can I at least get in and give you your coffee first you animal?!” Trott whined.

“Uhhh… No.” Smith grinned cheekily, taking both of the coffees from Trott’ hands and quickly placing them on the floor, snapping back up to take Trott’s face in his hands and bring him closer for a frankly disaster of a kiss.

“You… a..re a fucking…sex pest.” Trott laughed brokenly through the sloppy kisses and grabbing hands.

Suddenly though Smith completely stopped, letting Trott go knowing full well it would wind him up. Truthfully he needed to close the front door for what he was about to do. Walking straight past Trott and over to the sofa in the living room he removed his shirt and kneeled on the rug. “Are you going to get over here and remind me what your cock tastes like?” He said the question in such a way he could’ve been asking him if he’d read the papers that morning or what the time was. 

Spluttering ever so slightly Trott smiled, he would never purposefully laugh at some of the more ridiculous things that Smith came out with, and dear god it wasn’t like it didn't turn him on but he couldn't help but think of it like a cheesy porno line. Despite then getting distracted at the thought of Smith in a porno (he’d be great, the bastard does everything for show anyway) Trott managed to reply quite wittily. “Who am I to deny you such an experience?” he winked, walking the floorspace between them un-buttoning and un-zipping his trousers.

“I don’t know mate, but you should be here more often with a dick like that, I was getting desperate.” Smith knew what he was doing, he had a strange ability to do the ‘puppy eyes’ trick while still looking sexy and Trott fell for it every time.

“I really quite like you on your knees, literally begging for me.” Trott replied, stepping out of his trouser legs.

Smith couldn't play the long game any more, scooting forward on his knees he grabbed the back of Trott’s leg. Trott let out a long and exasperated sigh as Smith caressed his half hard dick. He teased him for a few minutes, running the smooth head over his wet lips and making sure to look him right in the eyes. He knew that Trott would soon take over; being a detective there weren't many things where Smith could relinquish all control so he loved it when he was sternly ordered to keep his hands behind his back as Trott used his scruffy hair as leverage to face fuck him. This time was no different and after a while Smith whimpered as his wet lips stretched around Trott’s twitching dick, he was about to come. Smith pulled back quickly, causing Trott to make an almost painful noise of loss. 

“I’m yours mate, time for you to claim me.” Smith said in a ridiculously gruff voice, fluttering his eyelashes and smiling. Trott still entwined his fingers in Smith’s hair as he pumped the top half of his cock, the movement getting more erratic until finally he came with two or three ropes of come. 

“Oh shit.” Trott half laughed, half shook with pleasure. “I think I was aiming a bit high.” 

Looking confused Smith ran his hand through his hair, “Yeah I don’t mind that it’s in my hair, i’ll go shower.” He turned slightly and placed his hand on the sofa to try and get up, before he could however he noticed a wet feeling under his palm. “Oh my god Trott for fucks sake.” He shook his head, turning back to see Trott laughing.

“That sofa is full of more jizz than anything else, I was just adding to it.” He said, walking over to the bathroom. “Coming with me?” He added.

“Well I don’t fancy this on my face all day so yeah.” Smith practically crawled over to the door. This was an opportune moment to casually mention that he needed a favour, but before he could Trott began speaking.

“This hit man thing isn’t any where near getting solved.” He sighed, turning the shower tap.

“I could help if you like, the quicker you catch him the more I get to bang you.” Smith smirked, slapping Trott’s arse.

“Not a fucking chance, not only have you fucked off half of the force, i’m also not meant to be telling you any of this so it would look pretty bad on me if you showed up with the suspect.” Trott said.

“Wait… You've got a suspect now?” He stepped into the shower cubicle with Trott.

“No…I meant… ugh what’s the point trying to keep anything from you.” He said, reaching for the shampoo and squirting some on Smith’s head and rubbing it in. “Yeah they think it’s related to this big pharma company, so they’re going after one of the CEO’s body guards for it. It’s not him though, we all know it, the place is primarily funded by… Take a guess.” Trott tapped him on the shoulder to get him to put his head under the shower spray.

“I’m gunna say the mob?” Smith said.

“Close but think closer.” Trott hinted.

“Wouldn’t be a company of Sips’ now would it?” Smith suggested, half joking, thinking this could be a way to get to the favour he needed. Sips had no reason to invest in pharmaceuticals, he was already a drug lord.

“Bingo.” Trott said unenthusiastically, lathering Smiths body in the mint body wash he liked.

“That’s ironic.” he replied, smiling accidentally as Trott ran his hands over a ticklish part of his arm.

“How come?” Trott questioned.

“I’m on a job for him, some guy ran away with a lot of money. I wouldn't usually be so interested but the guy looks like a fucking model.” Smith lied, he took the job before he even knew what it was, everyone knew Sips payed well.

“All I can say is be careful, people are dying… Actually would you mind speaking to someone for me?” Trott asked, grabbing the shower head and using it to rinse all the soapy suds from Smith.

“Yeah sure, I gunna need two favours back though.” He answered.

“You don’t even know who it is yet.” Trott laughed, “and what are these favours?” 

“I need a licence plate ran for this guy…” He looked down at Trott pleadingly.

“Deal, you’ll be speaking to fellow officer who transferred here. Her girlfriend was killed by the hit man, see if you can get anything off her that we can’t. What’s the other favour?” He said.

“No problem, i’ll do it. I want a kiss, that’s the other favour.” Smith winked as he lifted the slippery Trott who wrapped his legs around his waist.

“I’ll kiss you but just so you know I CAN feel your dick on my ass.” He moved his head to the side looking cynically at Smith’s cheeky face.

“A kiss and shower bang? Come on.” He pleaded, gently kissing Trott’s shoulder.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He pushed up from the bottom of the river bed, the sandy silt pushing between his toes. It had been too long since he had eaten, his figure was getting too slim. Without the company of another these trips were… still breathtaking nonetheless but- the feeling of having something to share without having anyone to share it with broke him. He would find the truth, he thought, watching the deer drink from the other edge of the river. Even if it killed him.


	6. Fig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smith gets a big lead, Trott and Smith change the dynamics of their relationship and Ross is fed up of being alone. Until he isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Relatively decent time between updating! I've set some time back to do more writing so I hope to be better at updating regularly. As always comments/kudos/suggestions appreciated and my Tumblr is SamTheFirst! <3

Trott never normally stayed the night but just this once Smith felt bad, they had only planned on showering together and having a quickie. That didn’t happen, they both had so much pent up frustration that they fucked and then sat together for hours, Smith stroking the soft skin around Trott’s hips as they spoke gently about the cases they were on and sharing funny stories. He couldn't then kick him out at three in the morning so he offered that he stay, it was nice actually, having someone else in the bed. His warm legs tucked just behind Smith’s, his toes stroking Smith’s ankle. He thought of a domesticated life, wandered if he could do it, have someone make his dinner when he got home every night and someone to take care of him when he was sick. It was quite embarrassing but it was a secret of his that he would love to settle down, Trott wasn’t who he imagined when he thought of this life though, Ross Hornby was.

———————————————————————————————————————————-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He smacked the wireless radio, tutting when it didn’t show any sign of working. Well that was it, his last chance of any contact with the outside world, even if he couldn't talk to anyone it was nice to hear the voices of the presenters and the songs to dance alone to. He needed to find a pay phone soon to call the few others that were also on the trail to let them know he was alive. If he didn’t call they would think he’d been assassinated too. He’d become so desperate for contact last week he called Penny, the camper woman, she was such a lovely lady he needed to know they hadn’t come after her. He stupidly remembered telling her where he was and having to move. It was irritating to have to find a town again but he was running out of decent food anyway, he thought, reaching in to the back of a cupboard to grab some QuikMash. It really was much harder being alone on the road, he had no desire to feed himself and hadn’t eaten in a day and a half. James would’ve whipped up something nice and made him eat it. This thought just upset him and instead of cooking he decided to get back in the small unmade double bed. He slept until he heard it. A single foot step on the crunchy forest floor. Then a bang. Then a lot of bangs, wait…a knock?

———————————————————————————————————————————-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’t really know what Chris wanted me to ask you.” This was a lie, he did know roughly what Trott wanted to know, but making people think you didn't have an agenda was important when they were so passionate about something.

“Yeah, i’m not sure what this meeting is about. I can tell you the basics?” The tall woman asked.

“I guess that would be a good place to start.” Smith smiled his easy gentle smile.

“She went missing about two months ago, it’s not something she would do. We were due to get married next month and she had anxiety, could barely go outside without me nowadays. Well last month they found her… I’m sorry…” she sniffed and wiped her eyes, “they found her in a car, dead. They put it down a suicide first but I wouldn't let them drop it. Couldn't let them drop it.” She was speaking brokenly now. Sobbing in-between words. “They re-did the post mortem and found that the times of death and the particles of carbon dioxide in her lungs were wrong. If she had… decided to… do that, she should have had more carbon in her system. She was suffocated, they found cotton fibres in her trachea… she died. I wasn’t there and she… she died. Alone.” She was full on crying now.

“I’m so sorry, Fiona. That is… horrible. I’m sorry.” Smith tried to sound sincere, he was genuinely upset but being a detective made him cold and he really hoped he managed to convey how disgusting it all was.

“I spend my entire life trying to protect people and I couldn't even protect my Zoey.” She wiped away her tears with a tissue.

“What did she do? For work I mean.” Smith questioned casually.

“She was a research science student at the university, never even got to finish her big paper on this study she got picked for.” Fiona sighed.

“Do you happen to know what company the study was for?” Smith tried not to sound too eager.

“I think it was D.I.R.T. Pharmaceuticals, she said something about the paper being published and it being important, that the results were amazing. I can probably find it on her laptop, if you need it.” Fiona shrugged.

Smith tried not to sound too interested but this was promising. “Uhh, yeah I guess it might be interesting.” 

“I really have to go now, i’ll email it to you. I’m on duty in a hour and I haven't eaten.” Fiona smiled sadly.

“Thanks for talking to me.” Smith shook her had gently as he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. 

Answering it quickly without looking at the number thinking it would be Trott he sounded confused at the female voice on the other end.

“Hello? James dear is that you?” A older lady questioned.

James? Shit it must’ve been Penny. “Hi, is this Penny?” he replied in a slightly softer voice.

“Yes dear you remember me! I called about Ross. He got in touch last week and he didn't sound good.” Penny sounded sad.

“Oh, in what way?” Smith sounded friendly and casual.

“He sounded concerned, told me he was in West Virginia and that he was…” But Smith stopped listening. West Virginia, where had he seen West Virginia? Monongahela, the river, the forests. He was in the national park. “and that he needed to speak to someone because he had been alone since he left me.” Smith heard her speak the last part of the sentence.

“I’ll go and see him, don’t worry Penny I’ll go.” Smith said.

“I didn’t tell him I spoke to you, I thought it would only upset him if he knew you were looking for him, thought he might flee again.” This was lucky Smith thought, this kid was on the run for a reason. He suspected if Penny told him an ex boyfriend was looking for him he might run.

“Okay, well I’m going to leave right now. Thank-you” Smith said.

“You call me when you find him. Promise me you’ll call?” Penny pleaded.

“Of course I will, goodbye Penny.” Smith smiled, he liked her and despite lying had a fondness for her.

“Take care of yourself, goodbye dear.” She put the phone down. 

This was it, he didn’t need the number plate anymore, he had to leave. He ran through the station, looking in every room for Trott. He found him in the break room eating a powdered donut.

“You really are the stereotype of a police officer.” He laughed as Trott stuffed the rest into his mouth.

“MUfff Uhhhf.” Trott tried to speak.

“Sorry? Say that again?” Smith laughed even harder. 

“I said…Fuck Off.” Trott enunciated. “Get anything from Fiona?” He asked.

“I’ll tell you later on the phone, I’ve got a lead on my case and I need to leave...now.” He tapped Trott on the shoulder and he didn't know why he did it but he- kissed, kissed? Trott. He sort of licked the donut sugar off of his lips while snogging him. He knew this was mistake as soon as he did it. They didn’t kiss very often and if they did it was at home, before or after shagging. This was too much like a romantic gesture. “I’m sorry.” Smith said, despite his detective status he was unable to disguise the embarrassment of this situation. “It’s just I might not be back for a week or so and I wanted to remind you of what you’ll be missing.” He might've done it he thought, as he winked, passed it off as a joke.

“No problem, see ya.” Trott wasn’t fooled, he was bright red. SHIT. What had he just done.


	7. Gooseberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get real and the case gets solved, what will this mean for Trott, Smith and Ross?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING SOME MENTIONS OF GORE TYPE THINGS.
> 
> I've had some mental health issues. Writing had to take a back seat. I know I'm so unreliable at the moment and I'm sorry! Just really struggling right now. Any love welcome, I love you all.
> 
> P.s. literally wrote this in a two hour inspiration spike so i'm sorry if there are mistakes (I'm dyslexic as fuck).

Ross jumped as he started upright in the bed, it was definitely a human knock with a rhythm. This was bad news, very bad news. Since when did assassins knock though? He calmly rose, pulling out the handgun he kept under the pillow and flicking off the safety. He didn't want to kill anyone but if it was a kill or be killed situation he had no choice.

“Can I help you?” Ross shouted at the closed door, gun pointing at the sheet metal. 

“You’re in trouble Ross. That’s right I know your name and I also know you've got a gun pointed at my chest through that door. I am un-armed.” A gruff voice spoke.

“How stupid do you think I am? The only way anyone could know where I was is by hurting someone I care about. I’m not about to open this door, you let me go.” Ross’ hands shook as his lip worried between his teeth, he was going to die any moment.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Leaving the station hastily, trying his best not to over think the whole Trott situation, Smith phoned Sips.

“Got some good news ol pal, I think I got a positive lead on our guy. Just need me a car.” Smith hadn’t even bothered to say hello, Sips never had any patience so why be polite.

“I’ll send driver and a team with you. Good job Al.” Sips gave an auditory grin.

“No driver, no team. I work alone or not at all. Get me the fastest car you've got and pay off the police in all counties from here to West Virginia. I need to break the speed limit and I don't fancy gettin’ stopped.” Smith rushed the sentence, not giving Sips any time to process what he’d said.

“Have it your way but if you don't get me a result then we’ll have a big problem.” Sips sounded more impressed than annoyed like Smith thought he would be.

“and Sips…” Smith waited.

“Uh uh?” he answered.

“Don’t have me followed. If I sniff a stalker you’ll lose your guy for good. Got it?” Smith demanded.

“You a touchy fucker aren't ya?” Sips snarled.

“Can’t trust anyone but yourself buddy, I don't need no trigger happy shits messing with my operation.” Smith said plainly.

“Nice video earlier by the way, good touch.” Sips never complimented anyone but this one called for it.

“Just a bit of evidence of me doing my job, getting some leads from my police contacts.” Smith winked down the phone, knowing that Sips wouldn't see it but his voiced changed into a flirty tone.

“Get me that guy’s number, hell of an ass on him.” Sips said confidently.

“He’s not in to the bolding drug lord type, sorry.” Smith laughed.

“Anyone is in to anything with enough money thrown in.” Sips said adding “Get the job done Al I needed it over a week ago.” 

“Will do, report back tomorrow.” Smith hung up and as he did he heard a roar of a V8 engine behind him. The driver door opened and the heavy set man that stepped out motioned for him to come over.

“Present from Mr. S.” He signalled the car, a black matte Lamborghini.

“Give him my thanks but could've gone with something less Men in Black…” He nodded as he bowed in to the front seat. Closing the door, punching in the address into the built in Sat Nav and roaring off down the road with the occasional sound of the gas injectors and air being sucked in to the engine he was off. One mile closer to Ross.

He came across many a problem on the way, the engine used about as much petrol as a small town gas station pumped out in a week. His phone was ringing off the hook and he had no time to mess about, he estimated he had no more than twelve hours before Ross was on the move. If he took intersection seventy eight west it would be about seven hours, and he couldn't say if Ross would get flighty and leave any minute. All the pressure and excitement bubbled up in him as adrenaline. What would he find when he got there? The phone now rang with Trott’s number, someone he felt real bad about ignoring. So he didn’t.

“What’s up buddy boy?” Smith smiled.

“FUCK, SMITH YOU FUCKING IDIOT.” Trott cried shouting down the phone.

“What!? What’s wrong?” His heart beat ran fast in his chest, Trott sounded really fucking upset. 

“YOU WOULDN’T ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE, I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD.” he still shouted.

“Come on, Trott i’m fine. You can’t check on me every five seconds.” Smith sighed, knowing in the back of his head that Trott would get attached to him since the very start of their sex only relationship. 

“I’M NOT JUST GUESSING YOU FUCKING TWAT. We solved the fucking case SMITH. We know WHY and HOW people were assassinated. All thanks to you talking to officer Fiona. You were a risk because you've got the evidence.” Trott started to said more relaxed that he was at least alive.

“ARE YOU MAD?!” he shouted swerving around the road, “I HAVE FUCK ALL TROTT.” he was exasperated.

“You have an email from Fiona, Zoey’s research files. We recorded the conversation and I went into your email account just out of curiosity.” Trott said casually.

“YOU DID WHAT?” Smith raged.

“Come on mate, I know all your passwords. Anyway you are in danger, are you a safe distance from the grasps of Sips?” Trott asked seriously.

“I’m half way to West Virginia on this job for him so yeah.” Smith said confused.

“ARE YOU IN A CAR OF HIS?!?! SMITH!” Trott shouted urgently.

“Yeah why?” Smith really couldn’t understand what the problem was.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF IT NO..” but Smith interrupted. 

“NO TROTT WHAT THE HELL, I NEED TO GET TO WEST VIRGINIA.” He slammed his hands on the steering wheel.

“Smith.” Trott urged. “You need to get out and i’ll explain, right now you are at risk of being nothing but limbs. Please Smith. I can’t loose you.” He begged.

Hearing the hurt in his voice Smith obliged, he pulled aside on the interstate. Grabbing his shit and getting as far from the car as possible before stopping again. “Im out. Now tell me what’s happening.” He said.

“Are you a good distance from the car?” Trott pleaded.

“Yes now tell me.” Smith was growing impatient.

“The assassinations, they were Sips. To put it simply he funded an underground research project on a drug which enhanced brain power, wanted to market it as a performance enhancer. Except all the non placebo test subjects were either made into vegetables or were for some reason driven crazy and started to eat themselves. They ripped themselves apart from the stomach. Some of them started to exhibit strange convulsions and apparently even though they had ripped their own hearts out and ate them they were still alive, talking some complicated language and occasionally muttering in english about the ‘black’ space. Zoey was one of the research students hired to watch the subjects around the clock. She’s dead. The guy you’re tailing, Ross Hornby, his boyfriend was a senior professor of neurology and threatened to expose it all. He’s dead. Kim Richards and Duncan Jones, Doctors. Dead. You have the evidence, you are a risk. and I can’t… I won’t let you die.”

“FUCK. Fuck. Why didn't I figure this out?! Shit, shit shit. This is goddamn fucking horror movie fucking crazy. But…this…this is bigger than me Trott. You know it is.” Smith suddenly became aware that Sips knew where he was headed and probably knew he’d stopped on the side of the intersection. He knew Smith knew. He knew where Ross was. Roughly.

“You cant be thinking of…” 

“I have to.” Smith interrupted. 

“NO. SMITH NO.” Trott started to cry again. “YOU’RE A FUCKING DETECTIVE USE YOUR BRAIN. YOU WILL DIE. ROSS IS GOING TO DIE AND YOU WLL GO WITH HIM. YOU CAN’T SAVE HIM. YOU DON’T KNOW HIM.” 

“I love you Trott. I can’t come back, you need to run. The police are all but bent to Sips’ will. I love you.”

“You can’t Smith… please don’t. I love you too, I love you so much. So much.” Trott was a hideous mess.

“Promise me you’ll run Trott, I need to hear you say it.” Smith gasped for air, not knowing if he was going to cry or pass out.

“I’ll run. Find me. When it’s safe. The place where the plastic sun joined us.” Trott said this with a strange determined tone.

“I’ll find you, I’ll be there. I do love you.” Smith wanted him to really believe it. He didn't know if he himself believed it but he felt something and it felt a lot like love.

“You should’ve… Doesn't matter. Be safe Smith, be safe.” Trott sounded a bit more headstrong, more composed. Then he heard the line tone make a dull sound. 

He was alone, being followed and in the middle of an intersection. He couldn’t stop to make a plan for the situation however because a sound, a loud booming and a ringing shook the floor. The car was 200 yards away, in flames and split open completely. People stopped, rear ended each other and skidded all over the road. Smith took the opportunity and walked over to the passenger side door of a stopped truck and knocked. The door swung open. 

“I don’t seem to have a ride anymore. Any chance you can get me down the intersection into West V?” He flashed a hundred dollars in his hands.

“No problem honey. Hop in.” The driver was a foreign sounding woman with a strong accent. What accent he didn't know. It was a risk but he couldn't wait any more.

“The faster we get there the better, kind of in a hurry.” Smith motioned to the road full of stopped cars in front of him. 

“I’ll take the road less travelled.” She winked as she pulled into the hard shoulder and accelerated quickly. “You got that look in your eye boy. No good comes of it.” She was looking over at him inquisitively.

“I hope not. Look i’m not being a dick but I don't feel like chatting.” Smith sighed. He stared out of the window at the bleak landscape, they were still on the hard shoulder travelling quickly. He could be dead already. Ross could be dead. Trott could be dead. He could die.


End file.
